


Closer Quarters

by ZeroSystem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Infidelity, Rough Sex, death eater friendships, implied grooming behavior, less than healthy relationships, narrative flippancy, passing mentions of other ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 00:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1284454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroSystem/pseuds/ZeroSystem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP/One-shot, Severus and Bellatrix, established "relationship" before the end of the first war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer Quarters

“Shut the fuck up. You can tell.”

Bellatrix laughs again, cackling a musical – it's beautiful in a hard way. Hah. Hard. Like his dick. Which she'd had shoved into the small of her back through layers of mutual clothing until she'd spun around, teasing and toying and mocking his admonishment about having practically had her hand in his lap at the meeting table, sat next to her husband. _Lost your taste for it?_

She's always violent about it and Severus hates that part, but his age and hormones (and, yes, genuine attraction, as loathe as he is to admit it) mean he's already too conditioned not to respond to her no matter what. He never swears but she brings it out at him, temper bristling with everything else. He's never violent but he's gotten good at pinning her down. She likes it, eggs him on – and it's usually the only way to keep her from slapping him when they fuck. 

She'd laughed at him the first time it had happened and he'd pulled away and stopped. Merlin, he hates her sometimes.

(Most of the time.)

She's spinning around the four poster bed in her borrowed room in her sister's house, humming and pretending to waltz, shooting him dark teasing looks as she does. She slips away when Severus approaches but doesn't dart fast enough when he grabs her. Shoves her face down onto the mattress. Bellatrix wiggles out and over before he can get a proper grasp on her – stupid layers of her skirts – but he's on his knees on the bed after her, ends up pushing her flat onto her back as she tries to sit up. She's laughing even more now, face flushed with enjoyment. Severus hates that she makes him do this, hates that she needs it to be turned on. But he's so hard it hurts.

Bellatrix rips his shirt front open and he hears a ping of a button hitting the headboard; he ignores it as he pushes her knees open, pinning her legs with his own while she trails fingernails down his stomach and then presses her hand over the tent in his slacks and rubs him. “Yes,” she purrs, an answer to his statement earlier, fingertips pressing firmly up and down along his covered erection. Severus holds himself still, refusing to twitch into it, but gets her other hand up over her head. “You always act so put out, but who else is letting you crawl so far up inside them?”

“Your sister,” he spits, angry and obviously lying- he gives up on her hands and reaches to the front of her dress where a spell rips it down the center before he yanks it apart, brassiere and all. Her breath hitches as cold air hits her breasts but she laughs again. Severus ducks down, weight resting between her legs, face against her chest. He rubs her tits and she arches her back into it as he kisses him, licks them, bites one of her nipples and sucks harshly. She groans. 

“You liar,” Bellatrix says, all pleasure. Her hands wind into his hair and pull, painful. Severus bites her and she yelps, knees at him, before he moves to her other breast. “Cissy would die from the shock of it. But I bet my dear brother in law would let you.”

Severus tugs hard with his teeth at her pebbled nipple; he hopes she interprets it as a warning to shut up and not the shudder of desire it was. He forces himself up and shoves her hands away so he can push her skirts up and get his fingers under the elastic of her panties before pulling them down – giving up halfway and shoving his hand against her, finding her clit and rubbing it with his thumb with his other fingers sink inside of her. She groans and reaches down to pull her own underwear, snapping one side so she isn't tangled. He's thought about it before and he thinks – maybe – Lucius has too. It's always been strange between them; the age difference and _class_ difference and their friendship despite it. Once when Lucius was particularly shell-shocked, they'd sat together after and talked quietly about nothing, their elbows and arms pressed incidentally together, more than fleeting, childlike if not for _everything_ else about them. He'd wondered.

“I bet you'd let him fuck you, too,” Bellatrix says, canting her hips up to try and grind against his hand. “But it'd be better watching him try and– _Ngh._ Hurry _up_.” 

Severus undoes his trousers and shoves them down. Bellatrix snakes a hand in to pull him out of his underwear, stroking over his erection, impossibly hard and already wet and pushed far out of his foreskin. He grunts and pushes her away again before grabbing her knees and yanking her where he wants her before leaning in to press the tip of his cock against her opening – wet already and in no need of any further help. He can feel the need in her as it is in him, all impatience and sweat and heat. He'd thought, long moments ago before they'd Apparated from the meeting, that he'd tease her some first, but he's too turned on. Severus shoves inside of her and groans, not stopping until he can't press any further, hips flush against her bottom. Bellatrix squirms and jerks against him, panting harshly. He remembers the first time they fucked. He'd been on his back and she'd slid onto him without preamble, but slowly, face contorted in something between pain and pleasure. _You don't look it but you're so much bigger than my husband._ He'd come twice while she rode him and stayed hard in between orgasms. Not bad for a virgin.

Severus rocks his hips once, twice, then snaps into her and she gasps – he takes advantage and grabs both her hands, pinning them over her head with his own. She arches and fights it a little but his whole weight is on top of her, and she soon gives up in favor of cinching her legs around his waist as he starts to rock into her again. It's tight and burning hot, the heavy slide of him in and out of her, pressed close enough to be nearly overwhelming for them both. His balls are swollen and pressed high, tapping against her every time he pushes back in. Bellatrix finally gives up talking after a few more attempts and just moans, dropping her head back onto the mattress as he drives in and out of her. The squeeze of her cunt around his dick is incredible, and more than enough to banish any thoughts of irritation or reluctance from his mind as if they'd never been there in the first place. He leans forward even more, forcing them nearly flat, using his weight to press against his pelvis as he fucks her, movements shallow but penetrating deep, barely pulling out of her. 

Bellatrix twitches and makes an ' _Oh_ ' sound, pulling against his hands. Severus breathes deep and fucks her quicker, holding inside of her for a longer count, stare unfocused as he restrains himself. It'd be so easy to come _right now_ as she tenses, coiling towards breaking point, but he masters the impulse. He rides through her orgasm as she pants and groans and then makes a soft noise, the kind he didn't think she was capable of before they began sleeping together, but Severus snaps his hips into her instead of stopping. Her breath catches. He does it again, and again, and then pulls out of her, letting go of her hands. Bellatrix is left dazed for a moment and Severus shoves her over onto her front. He feels lightheaded. He yanks her skirts up and palms over her ass, reaching down to press his fingers into her cunt again. She gets the idea and hums her agreement into the duvet cover, hitching her knees apart. Severus gets his hands under her hips and pulls her ass up before shoving his erection back into her. She moans long and needy, and reaches beneath herself to rub her clit while he fucks her more. Harder this time, faster, allowed selfishness at this point. Wetness drips onto the bed beneath them; the front of his slacks are a complete mess, to say nothing of the gauzy layers of her skirt. 

He's not sure if she comes again. He's paying attention to himself now, harsh and quick, but he knows distantly that she likes it anyway – wrapped up in stimulation. His orgasm hits him hard and he grunts, grinding his jaw closed on any other sound, shoving against her. Bellatrix gets one hand back and digs her nails into his hip, holding him until it passes. It's a stupid, almost quirky little gesture and he wonders if she's fully aware of the things she does sometimes that make her seem like a real person; he knows he's a replacement, but every so often, they seem like friends. He could tell her no. He could stop playing at arguing and really not go along with this. But he stays. Most of it is wanting sex and having no other regular outlet, some of it is thrilling that it's an affair, but there's something else, too, because she is made of magic, chaotic and dark. Bellatrix is cruel and unstable and they walk along a knife's edge between loving and hating each other, but she's fascinated him since he was a child. She is so brilliant, and so dangerous – a true Amazon warrior, named aptly. For a few dizzying heartbeats that he can hear in his head, they are graceless, clumsy, useless next to each other. _Maybe normal people feel like this_.

There's no tenderness after, but at least there's less violence. Bellatrix is always in a better mood after she gets off, no matter what state she was in prior. Bad moods are downgraded to tolerable, good moods mean she's near personable after. (If she doesn't come, then hell hath no fury, but Severus does not have this problem; she's _trained_ him. It's her husband he pities, there, rich and lazy and disinclined to lower himself to anything beyond his own immediate need– much less her cunt.) In the en suite bathroom he washes himself off and leans back against the counter for a while, watching her do the same. She smirks at him, shoves at his shoulder, lets him pull her in for a kiss. Plural. She leans against him for long moments while they kiss slowly, her tongue in his mouth, being sucked at. Idly he thinks of bending her over a counter but she steps back, clothes together again, and whisks herself away. She has a home and semblance of a family to return to. 

It's cool out, the evening having settled over them like a conspiring blanket. The patio off the Malfoy drawing room has a fire pit; it's going when Severus steps out. Lucius is there on a setee, smoking a cigarette and wearing a bath robe over pajama trousers, which means he's just come from fucking Narcissa's brains out. What a day for the walls of this house. 

Severus sits next to him and liberates a coffin nail from the pack sitting on the ledge of the fire pit, lighting it between his fingers. Leaning with his elbows on his knees, he feels Lucius put a hand on his back between his shoulders, rubbing lightly for a moment at the base of his neck, before dropping away. Severus turns his head to look at him, expression neither quizzical nor bothered, in time to watch him conjure a bottle of Scotch from inside. 

“You,” Lucius announces as he pours into little glasses that obligingly appear in mid-air, “Are a braver man than I.”

Severus just laughs.


End file.
